


Indigo

by Kikithehousemoose



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Grief, Multi, Vomiting, death of a lover, implied caleb/molly, spoilers for ep 26 and onward
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 11:32:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15994325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kikithehousemoose/pseuds/Kikithehousemoose
Summary: Jester was older than she looked and acted, but that didn't mean she was ready for everything the world had to throw at her.She certainly didn't think she could do anything without Mollymauk.But now it looked like she would have to face the biggest challenge of all, with or without him.





	Indigo

**Author's Note:**

> I know the pairing is going to turn some people off, but listen: Mollymauk is canonically pansexual. I know that this whole fandom wants Molly/Caleb or Molly/Fjord or Molly/Caleb/Fjord, and I ship those too, but Molly/Jester has always been a comfort ship for me and I wholly believe I can write it to be believable. If you only click on this to leave ship hate in the comments, I'm going to fucking destroy you. 
> 
> Otherwise, hope you enjoy!

The days following her capture were the worst Jester had ever felt.

Usually she was so good about hiding her pain. Small things could be made funny if she reacted in an over-dramatic way, but things that were actually of other people’s concern were usually things she’d rather not draw attention to. For at the attention she liked to demand from people, the last thing she actually wanted was for people to be worrying about her. It felt like it should be the other way around, so she usually kept quiet or passed it off by doing something silly. In a way, that’s what she was still trying to do, and she would say she was succeeding. Nott was the one in closest quarters with her, and she didn’t act like anything was amiss.

But inside, Jester felt very, very ill.

Those extended hours in the cell, alone with Fjord, unable to properly communicate with anyone, had tried their damndest to phase her. Admittedly, it was one of the hardest days of her life, second only to having to leave her childhood home. More than once, she reached out to feel the Traveler’s presence, only to find nothing. There was no merriment here, no open space, no crevice for chaos to creep through. There had only been the rotten conditions, the tight shackles, and the reek of torture. Still, she had tried to become the hope that she found herself lacking. If she could help others get through this, then maybe she could find a way to get through it, too. Even if her friends abandoned her…. And the Traveler abandoned her….. Even then, she would still have Fjord. She could be certain of that.

After that, when she’d heard the sounds of battle, she was sure that all hope for the universe was regained. They hadn’t been abandoned after all. Above everything else, Jester couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride at the idea that her encouragement to the rest of the prisoners had indeed helped fate swing in their favor.

Unfortunately, her joy was short lived.

That whole time, she’d thought of so many faces, tried to send messages to anyone she could think of. Yasha’s white, Nott’s green, Beau’s brown, Caleb’s orange, her mother’s red…. And Mollymauk. The brilliant, rich purple hue of Mollymauk. That same face with the smirk that still made her heart flutter, still made her want to go to any lengths to impress him. He was the one she wanted to see the most, out of all of them. Even the notable absence of the Traveler could be overshadowed by the presence of her crush swinging open the gates to her cell, sauntering in like he hadn’t just nearly lost a battle, ready with a quip on his honeyed lips and a comforting hug in his arms. It was dreams of her hero that gave her comfort at night, when the Traveler wouldn’t respond and Fjord refused to get comfortable.

But Mollymauk never came.   
Mollymauk would never come.

 

In the heat of the moment, it had been vital to move on. They’d had more important things to attend to. But now, shaken around in the back of the enchanted cart, she couldn’t help but be hit with the full force of the violent grief that had seized her midsection.

_Molly was gone. Molly was gone. Molly was gone._

The cart lurches again, and the sobs she had been holding back in her throat threaten to wretch up through her mouth, held back only by her gloved hand. Her stomach churned like it never had before, every repetition of the memory only pulling her into a more aggressive nausea. It was enough to make her feel pale and sweaty, enough to dizzy her with even the slightest movement of the cart. The interior felt suffocatingly small and widely distant at the same time. Nott was prattling on about something, but her free hand was clutching at her symbol of the Traveler, trying not to upheave all of her shock in the form of whatever bile was eating its way through her intestines. Every thought pounds behind her eyes painfully, but no matter how hard she tries to deviate from them, they always end up coming back.

_Molly is gone. Molly is gone. Molly is gone._

She’d felt sick when she was in the cell, but she’d attributed it to the conditions around her, not to her hopelessness. She hadn’t realized her emotions could made her feel so bad, but she felt like she might explode if she couldn’t relieve herself of it, or that it might poison her if she stops fighting against the onslaught for even a moment. She doesn’t know how she’s making such a convincing show of being fine. She’s not even consciously aware she’s doing it. But by the time their group finally stops for a bathroom break, she still somehow gives off enough air of composure to not be questioned much when she starts to wander off. At least, not until Beau double checks--

“Hey! Jester! Where you going?”

She calls out to Beauregard without turning around to her, _“I really have to shit!”_

The disgust in Beau’s response is so clear that she can practically see her nose scrunching up. It would make her giggle, if she didn’t feel half ready to fall over. “Eugh, just go take care of that, never mind.”

Thankful, Jester scurries off into the nearby brush without a word. Once she’s certain she’s far enough away that no one could see or hear her, she finally falls to her knees, letting out the most horrible wretch she had ever heard from herself. The leaves around her stain with the darkness of her grief as it expels herself from her, shuddering her body in waves that she was drastically underprepared for. It didn’t feel right for a girl as cute as her to be so violently ill, but she was just happy to get that darkness out from inside of her. She didn’t even feel like she was in her own body as she shook for who knows how long, riding through whatever mess keeping her emotions quiet had made inside of her.

Even once she was done, when she was sitting a little away from her mess holding onto herself, she still didn’t feel right. She felt weak, little, and just… sad. She wanted to help. She wanted to _do_ something. She didn’t want things to be gone until she was ready for them to be. She’d spent nights dreaming of her and Mollymauk eloping back to Nicodranas, of him meeting her mother and dancing with her, of their honeymoon on the beach or in one of the grand ballrooms. She knew better than to bring those dreams up to him, but even so, he had loved her. Of _course_ he had loved her. And he couldn’t just be _gone_. She didn’t _want_ him to be gone. She wanted him to be _back, here, now_. She wanted _diamonds._ She needed diamonds….

Jester only starts to come back to herself when she hears Nott calling her name. She doesn’t feel any better. She still feels weak, sad, and that emotional churning has only slightly subsided. But she doesn’t need anyone to see her like this. She’s pretty sure that Caleb loved Mollymauk, too, even with his weird ways of showing it, and Yasha had taken it the hardest out of any of them. Everyone was feeling that same grief she was; she couldn’t be the one to be a mess right now.

Sniffing, she wipes at her eyes with her gloves, making sure she didn’t have any traces of tears or sick on herself before standing. It was shaky, but a few deep breaths got her upright, and she grounded herself enough to not be shaking anymore. She was fine. She was okay.

Someone had to be their happiness, because Molly wasn’t here to be. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> SO. Even though it may seem like one, this is not a oneshot. It's supposed to be the first chapter of a relatively long fic-- long by my standards anyway. As to whether or not I'll actually finish writing it... who knows! For now, have this fun-for-the-whole-family griefpiece. 
> 
> (Also, yes, I do plan to title the chapters after corresponding tarot cards. Real original, I know.)


End file.
